As The Pendulum Swings
by brightsilverkitty
Summary: Voldemort has fallen, and the Wizarding world has begun to recover from the horrors of the last war. As September comes, Hermione and Bellatrix return to Hogwarts prepared to move forward and leave the past in the past. But are things ever that simple? "SEQUEL TO TIME HEALS ALL WOUNDS" AND "A GOOD ELF"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a companion/Sequel to my other stories "Time Heals All Wounds" and "A Good Elf". Please do not read until you've read the other two.

This story takes place between the second and third chapter of "A Good Elf".

* * *

Chapter 1: A Return to Normalcy?

(August 1998)

The Burrow was unusually quiet. The only sound came from Ron's bedroom-where the Burrow's resident ghoul had decided to live for the rest of it's days. In the kitchen Mrs. Weasley's eyes kept darting to the fireplace, then to the mantle above it where a clock used to sit that had hands inscribed with the name of each member of her family. Instead of numbers, the hands pointed to the place where the person was at that moment. The clock currently sat in pieces in the shed, as her husband, Arthur Weasley, had to remove the hand inscribed with _Fred_. Every time her eyes glanced at the empty spot, her chest lurched and she looked away quickly.

Her eyes skimmed the front page of the most recent _Daily Prophet_, and she made a slight "tsk'-ing noise as the title _**The Divided Quartet: How Harry Potter's infatuation with Hermione Granger drove apart the wizarding world's greatest Heroes **_jumped out at her. There was a photo of Hermione and Harry below the words. It was taken a few weeks ago after Hermione's return from Australia, and the two were smiling happily at each other. Below that, someone had located a photo of Bellatrix and Ron from directly after the war. Both looked exhausted and still bore the wounds of the Final Battle.

"Rubbish," Mrs. Weasley muttered under her breath as she scanned the article. Several new scandals were "revealed" each week about the Golden Quartet, each more unbelievable than the last. She flipped the page, and a smile crossed her face as she spotted a headline reading _**Harry Potter and Ron Weasley Begin Auror Training**_. She reached for a pair of scissors, and pulled a leather-bound album across the table. It was full of newspaper clipping from the past summer- or at least, the accurate articles- and she flipped through it, looking for a blank page.

Her smile grew fonder as several headings jumped out at her, _**Harry Potter Defeats Dark Lord Once Again!**__, __**You-Know-Who Defeated!**__, __**Hermione Ganger Returns From Australia With Parents**__, __**Weasley is Our King: an account of the Final Battle from Harry Potter's right hand man**__. _Beside the last clipping was a black and white photo of Ron, a pensive expression on his face. It was a popular print that was sold in most wizard shops, as the only single member of the "Golden Quartet" Ron had become quite popular amongst the younger witches.

Mrs. Weasley happily added the latest clipping to the album, ignoring the front page entirely as she cleaned up the rest. She had just tucked the album away on the shelves when the fireplace roared to life with the tell-tale green flames that came from the Floo network.

The first person through the Floo was a young witch with shiny black curls and a grin that lit up her face when she spotted Mrs. Weasley.

"Bella, dear!" Mrs. Weasley crossed the floor and captured the witch in a hug. "How are you? How are the Grangers?"

"They're wonderful," Bellatrix said, her eyes sparkling with mirth when she pulled away, "they've been very kind to me."

Mrs. Weasley felt as if a small weight had been lifted from her chest. She had taken Bellatrix under her wing as quickly as she had Harry, and-like Harry- she now considered the dark-haired witch to be one of her children. She would be lying if she said she had not been a little worried of how the Grangers would react to Bellatrix, especially after Hermione had shared her intention to tell her parents the whole truth about where Bellatrix had come from.

But Bellatrix stood in front of her, happier than she had ever looked.

There was no time to ask another question, as a second witch fell from the flames.

Like Bellatrix, Hermione had little time to get her footing before Mrs. Weasley wrapped her in a hug.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said fondly, pulling away, "been having a nice summer?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, and pulled away to look at Hermione. She was also wearing a broad grin, and she chatted amiably with Mrs. Weasley as Mr. Weasley strode through the fire with an amused expression on his face.

"Ginny is over at Grimmauld Place with the boys," Mrs. Weasley explained, there was something disapproving in her tone, but Mr. Weasley gave her a warning glance and she smiled again. "They'll all be here for dinner though."

There was an awkward pause, and then Mr. Weasley clapped his hands, "Sit down, and I'll make us some tea," he pulled two of the chairs out, "and then we want to hear all about Australia."

* * *

"How's Auror training, Harry?" Hermione asked later that night as they gathered around the table with Bellatrix, Ron, Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. There was an empty setting next to Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione had caught Mrs. Weasley gazing sadly at it several times already that evening.

Harry, who had also sensed the need to distract the Weasleys, launched into a description of his day.

"It's brutal," he finished a few minutes later. "There's a lot more studying than we thought," he shared a look with Ron, who raised his eyebrows in agreement, then shoved a whole dinner roll into his mouth, "But," Harry continued, "Tonks says she's going to take us out a lot sooner than she usually would."

Ron added, "We have more experience."

"Ugh," Bellatrix jerked away from him as partially chewed bits of roll spewed all over the table.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley barked as Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Harry roared with laughter.

Hermione passed Bellatrix her napkin as Mrs. Weasley looked ready to launch into a lecture about manners. The whole family fell silent, however, as the kitchen door sprang open, and in walked-

"George!"

Mrs. Weasley leapt to her feet and sprung at the young man. He laughed weakly as she captured him in one of her hugs, and patted her gently on the back.

"Hello, Mum," he said. He followed her to the table, and allowed her to pile his plate high with food.

"How's the shop?" Mr. Weasley asked, his face etched with concern. He was not the only one, with the exception of Bellatrix, everyone looked at George as if they were certain he was about to burst into tears. There was a tense silence as he finished his bite of chicken.

"Great, actually," he said, "I had to hire two new workers last week."

"That's wonderful, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, her smile a little too bright.

There was another tense silence, but Hermione could tell that the Weasleys were all relieved that George had finally made an appearance. Ginny had mentioned in one of her letters that George had been avoiding the rest of the family.

As if she was thinking the same thing, Ginny said "It's so good to see you, George."

He grinned a little, "It's good to see you too, Gin. I figured it was time to make an appearance before Mum sent the Aurors after me," he patted his mother's hand. "And I just had to check in on poor Trixie to make sure she hasn't lost her mind yet."

Hermione's feelings flashed from sympathy to outrage in an instant, but before she could react, Bellatrix burst into laughter.

"I could say the same about you!" the dark-haired witch smirked, "I was afraid that you'd decided to become a hermit. For all we knew you could've started a kneazle colony."

George let out a tiny-but real-laugh. "That's not a bad idea."

Hermione watched in amazement as the two fell into a relaxed conversation while the rest of them stared on. Bellatrix's relationship with the twins had always surprised her. Like Mrs. Weasley, they had taken her under their wing almost at once. They were the only ones other than Hermione who could tease Bellatrix without risking their lives. They were also the only ones who dared to call her 'Trixie.' Ron had tried it out once, and he had spent the next week figuring out how to brew a potion that could re-grow his eyebrows.

The evening passed in quiet contentment. Mr. Weasley pulled Hermione and Harry aside to show them his new favorite Muggle contraption (they call it an 'eclectric blanket'), and Ron challenged Bellatrix to a game of Wizard's chess. George and Ginny watched on, laughing roarously when Ron's Knight shattered Bellatrix's Queen.

It was half past eleven when Mrs. Weasley finally insisted that the girls go to bed.

"We've got to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow," she said, "I want to get an early start- hopefully we can avoid seeing _that woman._"

Nobody asked who she was referring to. Rita Skeeter had been slinking around the Burrow ever since the Final Battle. Not even Mrs. Weasley's bad temper could keep her at bay.

They said goodnight to Harry, Ron, and George as the boys moved towards the fireplace to floo back to their homes, and trekked upstairs.

Hermione gave Bellatrix a chaste kiss goodnight (Mrs. Weasley had subtly pointed out that the two would not be sharing a room earlier, "Bella dear, you can sleep in Ron's old room. I imagine you'll want some alone time before school starts.") before following Ginny into her room.

She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Bellatrix fidgeted impatiently as she waited for Madam Malkin to finish fitting her for her school robes. She had not had time the year before to get some, and she was in desperate need of new clothing.

"Which do you prefer, dear," Mrs. Weasley held up two swatches of silk, "green or purple? Red would look good too, I suppose. Or how about the brown?"

"I don't care," Bellatrix said, straining to keep the misery out of voice. They had been at it for more than an hour. A scowl crossed her face, Ginny and Hermione had finished in fifteen minutes. They had gone with Harry to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"The green then," Mrs. Weasley said to the attendant.

"I'll have your purchases sent directly to the Burrow," Madam Malkin said, flashing Bellatrix a smile.

With a curt nod, and a grumble of "Thanks," Bellatrix and Mrs. Weasley left the shop.

"I wish we could've used Polyjuice Potion," Bellatrix grumbled as several people gasped and pointed.

Mrs. Weasley gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I know, dear. But Kingsley thought it would be good for morale if the people saw you two getting ready to go back to school. It helps them feel like everything will turn out fine in the end."

Bellatrix spotted a sign in the window of the nearest shop that read: _Golden Quartet Dolls- 10 Galleons each, or all 4 for 35! _She gave a disgusted snort, and pointedly walked past it.

They reunited with Hermione, Harry, and Ginny- and all four followed Mrs. Weasley to Flourish and Blotts.

"They must be joking!" Ginny gasped when they entered the store.

Bellatrix looked past the redhead, and groaned. Against the back wall four posters were hung, each with one of the Golden Quartet smiling and waving. She recognized them as the promotional photographs Kingsley had ordered in another attempt to promote morale. It was one of the few public photos in which she was smiling, and as she walked closer to get a better look she decided that it made her look like an idiot.

In the poster she sat on a pile of rubble in a borrowed school robe. Hogwarts was visible in the background, and she waved with the practiced smile that her mother had trained her to wear in public.

Hermione's and Ron's posters were similar. Hermione stood in front of Hagrid's hut, while Ron stood on the Grand Staircase, but both smiled and waved at the camera.

_Harry's is the only one that looks real_, Bellatrix thought with a smirk. In it, Harry wore a determined expression as he nodded to the camera.

She was more than relieved to see that there were more prints on the table below the posters. These were the actual photographs taken during the days and weeks after the Final Battle. In them, the Golden Quartet looked battered and exhausted as they worked to rebuild Hogwarts. She smiled at a photo of her and Hermione trying to catch Buckbeak- the hippogriff had escaped from Hagrid's hut and had decided to spend the evening chasing reporters- and picked it up.

They gathered their schoolbooks, and Mrs. Weasley gathered up several of the photographs, and made their way to the counter when something else caught her eye.

"Merlin's Beard!" Bellatrix shouted, drawing the attention of half the shop.

Harry, who was at her side in an instant, grimaced. "I was hoping she wouldn't do this," he sighed.

They were looking at a display of biographies with garish covers. The first was bright orange and read, _Weasley is Our King: The life and times of Ronald Weasley, an unauthorized biography by Rita Skeeter_. Beside it sat a scarlet and gold book titled _The Boy Who Lived… Twice: The life and times of Harry Potter, an unauthorized biography by Rita Skeeter_. There was also _The Brains among the Brawn: The life and times of Hermione Granger, an unauthorized biography by Rita Skeeter_, this one had a calming green color. Then there was the final book, with its onyx cover, _The Redeemer: The life and times of Bellatrix Black, an unauthorized biography by Rita Skeeter._

There was an angry current in the Burrow that night, as all four members of the Golden Quartet finished reading their 'biographies.'

"I was _not_ bullied by my Muggle peers when I was young," Hermione huffed as she flipped another page hard enough to rip it. "and I most certainly never had plans to run away with Victor!" She looked up at Bellatrix, "I swear, I never-"

"I believe you," Bellatrix soothed. The four of them were sitting at the kitchen table, where they had been for the entire afternoon."

"Well at least you don't sob into your pillow every night while you remember your dead parents," Harry grumbled from across the table. He glared sourly down at the passage he was reading, and muttered angrily, "The only thing she has right is that the Dursley's hated anything to do with magic. Though how she knows that-"

Ron, who was sitting on Bellatrix's other side, piped up "At least there's nothing bad in them," he said. "No, really," he rushed as three sets of eyes glared towards him, "She could've claimed loads of horrible stuff- that Hermione was a Death Eater, that Harry secretly longs to rule the world, but it's all sort of… nice." He blushed as they continued to stare at him.

"You're just happy that she made you into some romantic hero," Bellatrix pointed out. "What was it she said, oh right- _The night he chose to return to the Quartet was the hardest night of his life. A night in which he had to choose between protecting his family, or protecting the Boy-Who-Lived_. She makes it sound as if the rest of us would have been completely lost if you hadn't come back!"

"Well, she makes us all sound like heroes, doesn't she?" Ron said defensively. He held his book as if it were something precious, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"These are _lies_, Ron." She tapped the cover of her book for emphasis.

He shrugged, "Well, maybe that's ok. I mean, at least in your case!" He said quickly. "You don't really have a backstory, do you? At least, not one that we can tell anyone. She sort of… gave you one. A pretty good one too."

Bellatrix bit her lip to keep from retorting angrily. She had to admit that he had a point. Rita Skeeter had given her an amazing backstory.

According to the book, Bellatrix was the product of an affair between Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape. The only good thing her "mother" ever did was secretly send the infant-her- to live with Snape. Apparently recognizing the danger of living with a double agent, Snape sent her to be raised by two spinsters in a remote location in Scotland.

The fictional Bellatrix grew up lonely. Out of fear of He Who Must Not Be Named, and her own "mother" Snape refused to allow her to attend Hogwarts. She was taught by the spinsters, and spent her years eagerly awaiting her father's holiday visits. He instilled within her a desire to redeem the Black family name- to fight against intolerance and to fight against the darkness she inherited from her "mother."

According to Rita Skeeter, when Bellatrix Lestrange discovered that her child was still alive, she tracked her down and demanded that the young Bellatrix join He Who Must Not Be Named. Naturally, young Bellatrix resisted. There was an epic showdown where the spinsters were killed, and Bellatrix Lestrange was fatally wounded by her daughter. With her last breath, Lestrange forgave her daughter, and told her how proud she was that she had brought such a brave soul into the world (it was very well written, Bellatrix had felt her eyes water- and had immediately felt foolish).

In the last part of the book, Bellatrix was reunited with her "father", fell in love with the beautiful Hermione (Rita stressed Hermione's attraction to 'dangerous' people here) and made the first friends she had ever had. There was a beautiful scene in which she said goodbye to her father as he died (again, Bellatrix was embarrassed to find herself tearing up) and a noble speech about how blood purity did not make someone noble that she supposedly delivered in front of the Death Eaters and He Who Must Not Be Named. The book ended with an emphasis on her devotion for Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

"You have a point," she admitted. Her comment drew curious glances from Harry and Hermione, and she shrugged, "It does fill in the blanks…"

Hermione sniffed, "Well, I think we could do a much better job than Rita Skeeter," she clapped her book shut, and banged it down onto the table.

"But it's what the public already believes," said Ron sagely.

Bellatrix predicted that Rita Skeeter had made herself an ally in the second-youngest Weasley.

Hermione looked as if she had a scathing reply, but her words were interrupted as Mrs. Weasley burst into the room.

"We're having company for dinner," she gasped, jerking cabinets open left and right, and throwing ingredients onto the table.

"If you have time to talk you have time to chop!" She said, throwing several knives down in front of them.

They all knew better than to ignore a flustered Mrs. Weasley, so they swapped their books for cutting boards, and followed her orders.

"You have to admit though," Ron said ten minutes later as he chopped his way through a mountain of potatoes, "she does have a flair for the dramatic."

The only reply was from Hermione, who threw a carrot at him.

A few hours later, there was a polite knock from the front door.

"Is it Kingsley?" Ginny asked, naming one of the few people who actually came in through the front door. Most people used the garden entrance.

"No. Finish setting the table," Mrs. Weasley said, brushing her hands over the front of her robes.

Bellatrix frowned as she watched Mrs. Weasley smooth her hands over her hair.

_What's making her so nervous? _She wondered, following the Weasley matriarch to the front door.

Her question was answered immediately when the door swung open to reveal none other than Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco.

"Hello, Molly," Narcissa said, smiling as she looked past the older woman to where Bellatrix was standing, "Bella."

Bellatrix grunted a hello, and spun on her heel.

"It's _Narcissa_," she hissed when she re-entered the kitchen.

The others barely had time to react before the Malfoys followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen.

"You remember Harry and Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley said, "and these are my youngest, Ron and Ginny."

"It's nice to meet you," Narcissa said. She looked extremely out of place in the Burrow's kitchen with her silk robes and her immaculate hair. She towered above Mrs. Weasley by at least a head, and though she smiled her movements were stiff and uncomfortable.

Draco, in comparison, allowed himself to be swept up in one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs, and wasted no time in informing Harry that he had read the biography.

"It might be my new favorite book," he stated as he took a seat between Mrs. Weasley and his mother. "I especially loved learning that your true love, besides Hermione," he nodded to the brunette, smirking as she flushed in irritation, "was Luna Lovegood. Tell me, when is the wedding?"

"After his wedding to you, apparently." Ginny quipped, rolling her eyes.

Draco arched an eyebrow, "I must've missed that part."

"It's in Ron's biography," Harry gritted. His cheeks were crimson.

"She makes a good argument," Bellatrix chimed in, relaxing a little at their banter. "If I didn't know how much you two loathed each other, I might believe it. Unless-" she narrowed her eyes at them, and struggled to keep her voice even.

Draco fidgeted under her gaze.

"Unless what?" Ron asked.

"She's insinuating that Harry and I-" Draco cleared his throat, his cheeks pinked slightly, "that we-"

"That's enough, Bellatrix." Narcissa said.

Bellatrix glared at her sister. She was not sure which offended her more, that she was not allowed to embarrass the boys further, or that her sister talked to her as if she were her mother.

"We went to Diagon Alley today," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, as if she sensed the tension in the air. "Bellatrix didn't have any trouble accessing her vaults."

"Good," Narcissa nodded in satisfaction, "That's good. I hope you visited Madam Malkin's," she said, turning her head to look pointedly at Bellatrix's Muggle clothing.

"We did," Mrs. Weasley gave Bellatrix a pointed look, and Bellatrix closed her mouth and stabbed at the roast chicken on her plate.

It was an awkward dinner. While Draco joked with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, Bellatrix fought to keep her temper under control as Narcissa demonstrated her complete transformation into their mother. Well, except for the Pureblood elitism. She kept that to a minimum.

But her comments on Bellatrix's hair, clothing, and her hopes for Bellatrix's year at school made Bellatrix want to rip her hair out. Mrs. Weasley, thankfully, continued to answer most questions for her, while Hermione kept a soothing hand on her knee underneath the table.

"What steps are you taking to control your mood?" Narcissa asked bluntly after dinner.

Bellatrix blushed furiously, and was grateful that Harry, Ron, Draco, and Ginny had decided to play a game of Quidditch in the garden. Mrs. Weasley pretended not to listen as she cleared the dishes.

"I don't need to control my mood," Bellatrix spat. "It's fine." She felt Hermione lean closer to her, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.

Narcissa's blue eyes bore into her, as if she were trying to read her. "Bella, you know that it's nothing to be ashamed of- but if you don't take precautions then you will lose whatever control you _think _you have."

"What do you know about it?" Bellatrix asked hotly. She sat up a little straighter. "You don't know anything about me!"

"I think I do," Narcissa said softly. "I know a lot more than you think I do. I watched you grow up, Bella, and I saw what happened. If you want things to be different this time you need to be proactive-"

Bellatrix's temper snapped. "You're not my mother!" She yelled, "You're my little sister. And it's not going to be like before. _I'm different_."

Bellatrix instantly felt foolish at her outburst. If anything, it had proved Narcissa right.

Her sister pursed her lips. "I may not be your mother," she said carefully, "but I am not the little girl you left behind. I understand a lot more than you think I do. I also love you very much, and I want you to have your second chance just as much as you do." She let those words sink in, and Bellatrix felt a pang in her chest as she realized just how similar Narcissa looked to their mother.

Narcissa probably sensed Bellatrix's confusion, and she turned to Hermione, "Molly said you wanted to work at the Ministry after you leave Hogwarts?"

Hermione seemed surprised at the question, but she allowed herself to be drawn into a conversation about the Ministry. Bellatrix was quiet as they talked. For the first time since she had met this older Narcissa she paid close attention to what the blonde said, and how she said it.

A lump formed in her throat as she realized that her little sister- the only person in her old life (besides Hermione) who she felt happy to see- was gone. In her place was this perfectly groomed, aristocratic woman who was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Suddenly, Bellatrix missed her more than anything.

The others returned, exhausted and streaked with dirt, but happy. Their chatter filled the Burrow, and Molly passed around a plate of homemade cauldron cakes.

When it came time for the Malfoys to leave, Bellatrix followed them into the front yard. She watched Draco disappear with a _pop_ and then jumped forward before Narcissa could follow.

"Cissy," she said quietly, stopping her sister before she could apparate.

Narcissa turned, "Yes?"

Bellatrix moved before she could stop herself. Her arms wrapped around the blonde's middle, and she hid her face in Narcissa's shoulder. "I'm sorry for yelling," she said, embarrassed by the whine in her voice.

She relaxed slightly when she felt her sister's hand stroke through her curls.

"It's ok, Bella. I can't imagine how hard all of this is for you."

_Don't cry_, Bellatrix told herself, frustrated as the tears pricked her eyes. _You can't cry here_.

Narcissa kept talking, "It's so strange, Bella. I know you're… you, but whenever I see you I can't help thinking that you're only Draco's age, and you don't have any parents-"

"I have more parents than I used to," Bellatrix whispered, thinking of the Weasleys. She felt Narcissa nod against her head.

"Yes, I suppose you do. But that doesn't stop me from feeling as if I have a certain responsibility." Her soft fingers slid beneath Bellatrix's chin, and she forced her to look up at her. "I love you, Bella. I can't see you go through what you did before. I know you have Hermione now, but she can't be your only source of stability."

Now Narcissa's eyes shone with unshed tears, and Bellatrix cursed her inability to stop her own from spilling down her cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered, swiping at her face.

Narcissa's hands caught hers, "Don't apologize, Darling. If you want to cry you should." She pressed a kiss against Bellatrix's forehead, and wrapped her arms around her. "I love you so much, Bella. I'd do anything for you. You've always been my hero."

The tears fell faster, and Bellatrix found herself sobbing openly. The arms around her tightened, and she relaxed into Narcissa's hold.

It was as if a floodgate had opened. All of the stress of the day, the ache from missing her sisters, the jealousy she felt whenever Mrs. Weasley beamed at one of her children. Then, most surprisingly of all- the deep yearning she had for her own mother. The mother she remembered from her early childhood, the one who surfaced during the Easter Holiday to defend her from Cygnus, and the one in her memories who loved her so fiercely.

Nothing would ever replace her mother. But when Narcissa pulled a handkerchief and wiped her tears, Bellatrix felt very lucky to have a sister.

* * *

**A/N:** So there it is. The first chapter. I was originally only going to write one-shots, but I missed writing the characters so much that I've decided to make this into its own story. Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

(September 1998)

The sun had barely begun to peek over the treetops when the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice jarred Hermione awake.

"Girls! Wake up! Breakfast!"

There was a groan from across the room, and Ginny slowly sat up. "S'not even light yet," she mumbled, squinting blearily at the window.

A laugh bubbled up from Hermione's throat as she untangled herself from the sheets and began to dress. "Well, this is the last time-"

"It's too early to start that again, Mione," yawned Ginny. "We can't all be as sentimental as you."

Hermione smirked as she secured her hair into a messy knot at the base of her skull, but made no reply. She and Bellatrix had been at the Burrow for a week, and so far all Ginny had done was moan about how she would much rather be moving to London with Harry and Ron.

She double checked to make sure that all of her things were packed in her trunk, and then she levitated it and guided it down the stairs. Bellatrix's trunk was already waiting by the front door, and she left hers beside it.

"Ginny! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed once again.

Stifling a yawn, Hermione headed into the kitchen, which was in utter chaos. Plates and glasses flew from the cabinets to the table while Mrs. Weasley piled a mountain of scrambled eggs onto a plate and sent it along with a flick of her wand. Hermione ducked as a jug of milk followed, and hurried to find a chair before Mrs. Weasley sent the cutlery over.

Bellatrix grinned at her from the table, "Good morning!" She chirped, pulling out the seat beside her so that Hermione could sit down.

"Oh, there you are dear. Is Ginny awake?" Mrs. Weasley asked, pretending not to see the chaste kiss that passed between the girls.

There was a bang as Ginny stalked into the kitchen, "Not really," she grumbled, sliding into the seat across from Hermione.

"Well, I know something that'll cheer you up," Bellatrix said, sliding a fat envelope across the table, "Pig dropped that off this morning. It's from Harry."

Ginny brightened instantly as she tore into the envelope.

Hermione looked up, and chuckled to see Pigwidgeon sitting happily between Errol and the barn owl Gawain (her early birthday present from her parents). The two larger owls looked irritated as the tiny owl began to hoot cheerily.

"Don't just sit there," Mrs. Weasley plunked an earthenware jug of milk onto the table, and set a plate of sausages beside it, "eat your breakfast. Hermione, dear, there's a letter from your parents somewhere…"

Hermione grinned as Mrs. Weasley pulled the letter from beneath the eggs, and ripped it open.

Bellatrix began to fill Hermione's plate as the brunette read.

"They like you a lot," Hermione told her, feeling warmth in her chest as she re-read her father's words. "Dad says they'd like to keep writing you, if you're comfortable with it," she peered curiously over the top of her letter, "I didn't know he'd written you."

There was a faint blush in Bellatrix's cheeks, "Well, can you blame them?" She asked, "I mean, they had loads of questions about the potion, and whether or not I have memories. It's complicated enough from a wizarding standpoint. Also, your Mother told me that she'd bury me in the garden if I hurt you."

"She didn't!" gasped Hermione. She was certain that her face was the perfect image of mortification.

Ginny sniggered as she bit into her toast.

Shrugging, Bellatrix nodded, "She seems satisfied that I'm not a Death Eater though, so there's that."

"I'm so sorry," said Hermione earnestly, but Bellatrix just waved her off.

"Don't worry about it," she said, "I'm sure it would've happened sooner or later."

Mrs. Weasley finally joined them at the table, and the girls finished their breakfast in silence. Hermione noted curiously that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be watching Bellatrix with a worried expression.

_I'm sure it's nothing_, she told herself, finishing her milk. Ever since Narcissa's visit Mrs. Weasley had kept a close eye on Hermione's girlfriend. Wherever Bellatrix went, Mrs. Weasley came up with an excuse to be in the same room. The day before she had followed the girls into Ginny's room because she "wanted to check the walls for mold. "

A few hours later the three girls stood in front of the Hogwarts Express with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The absence of the boys had made their trip much faster- and they had arrived much earlier than planned.

"I see Cissy and Draco," Bellatrix commented, "I'd better say hello. She'll be offended if I don't," she made a face, then winked at Hermione and strode off towards her sister and nephew.

Mrs. Weasley waved fondly at Draco and beamed when he waved back.

"I suppose we'll have to get used to seeing him around the Burrow then," Ginny commented dryly, "now that Mum's decided to fall in love with him." While Harry, and sometimes Ron, had decided to accept Draco as a part of their lives, Ginny was a little more resistant. She had been at Hogwarts while Draco had been held "hostage" by the Weaselys during the final months of the war, and so she did not have as much chance to get to know him.

"Why shouldn't he spend more time at the Burrow?" Mrs. Weasley's eyes flashed defensively, and Hermione fought the urge to laugh at how similar the two redheads looked when they were passionate about something. "Draco is a very polite young man, and he has been making a real effort. Even your father has forgiven him for being a Malfoy."

Hermione did laugh then, as Mr. Weasley blushed a deep shade of scarlet.

"Well, his attitude is much improved," she sniffed.

Shortly after that Bellatrix returned, and the group began to say their goodbyes.

Hermione felt the familiar crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley, and smiled as she returned it.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley pulled back and glanced to where Mr. Weasley and Bellatrix were laughing over some joke. "I want you to keep an eye on Bella."

Worry and indignation rose in the brunette's mind, but before she could point out that she already intended to keep an eye on Bellatrix Mrs. Weasley continued.

"Call it 'mother's intuition' but I think that she's not… feeling well. I fear that Narcissa might be right." Mrs. Weasley finished, "I'm concerned that Bellatrix might not admit it if she's feeling overwhelmed."

Hermione instantly felt guilty, and found herself replaying their last few interactions. Bellatrix had never said anything, but they'd been so busy finding her parents and helping to repair Hogwarts…

"I'm sure it's nothing," Mrs. Weasley said, squeezing Hermione's arm gently, "I tend to overthink things. Have a good year, dear."

Hermione found herself crushed into another hug. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley," she whispered.

"Of course, dear, of course."

She hugged Mr. Weasley goodbye, and soon the girls were sitting in a compartment, waving goodbye to the Weasleys through the window. She set Gawain's cage on the floor next to Crookshanks' basket, and tried not to look too surprised when Narcissa gave her a tiny smile.

"I'm going to find Luna and Neville," Ginny said once they had left the station. She shut the door behind her, and the two sighed in relief as they were alone for the first time in a week.

"I missed you," Bellatrix scooted closer and leaned her head on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione smiled, finding Bellatrix's hand with her own, "We've been together all summer," she reminded the dark haired witch.

"Yes, but not like this." Bellatrix threaded her fingers through Hermione's, and gave a contented sigh.

"Was your sister nice?"

"Ugh," Bella groaned, "I think she thinks it's her job to be my mother now. Kept fussing over my hair. She called me 'dear', can you believe it?"

Hermione felt her snuggle closer, and pressed a kiss to the dark curls. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. It must be confusing for her."

"Not just for her! I swear, Draco better give her a granddaughter soon. If she asks us to move to Malfoy Manor… well, it won't be pretty."

Hermione laughed, and rested her cheek against the top of Bellatrix's head. A peaceful silence filled the compartment, and the brunette felt contentment spread through her.

Mrs. Weasley was wrong, she decided. She _had_ to be.

They were interrupted a short while later by a knock on the compartment door.

"May I join you?" Draco asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Bellatrix shrugged, and Hermione nodded.

"Thanks," Draco grinned, entering the compartment. Hermione watched curiously as he tugged the cage carrying his eagle owl in after him.

Bellatrix noticed too. "Tired of the other Slytherins already?" she asked.

"There were no empty compartments," Draco said, a defensive note to his words.

"I would have thought that a Malfoy would know how to make room for himself," Bellatrix sniffed, but there was no real disdain to her words.

Draco squared his shoulders, but something about his expression made him look much younger than he actually was, "I don't use my name to get what I want," he informed her.

Hermione watched the interaction closely. She suspected that a large part of Bellatrix still connected Draco with his father. Whenever the blonde boy was around Bellatrix grew more withdrawn and cautious (though it came off as haughty and sarcastic). She genuinely seemed to be trying to get to know him in his own right though. The fact that she was calling him Draco was a good start- she had spent the summer calling him "Cissy's boy."

Draco turned to look at her, "Have you read all of our schoolbooks yet, Hermione?"

_Draco Malfoy is teasing me_, she thought, bewildered. He wore a grin that she had never before seen on his face (one he almost certainly picked up during his time as the Weasley's "hostage"). "No," she said slowly.

Bellatrix snorted with laughter, "She finished them all the day after we bought them!"

A blush crept into Hermione's cheeks, "I only _skimmed_ them," she insisted, "I still have to re-read them if I want to understand them."

It was Draco's turn to look bewildered.

"Wait until you see her write an essay," Bellatrix shook her head.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "There's nothing wrong with being thorough, Bella. Besides, I need to do everything I can if I want to work for the Ministry when I leave Hogwarts."

"Mione, I'm pretty sure the only thing you'll need to do is _hint_ that you might be interested in working for the Ministry, and the job offers will come pouring in!"

"Bellatrix is right," Draco nodded, "you _are_ a member of the Golden Quartet, after all. Harry and Ron were accepted as Aurors-in-training without their NEWTs. They're the first ones in over a century to get in without NEWTs."

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, "Well I want to be accepted because I'm the best candidate, not because of what I did during the war!"

"And you will be," Bellatrix soothed, apparently sensing that this was not the time to tease her girlfriend. "In fact, you probably could take your NEWTs right now and pass with all E's."

Hermione grinned at the dark-haired witch. "Well, I don't know about that…" She cleared her throat, "How about you, Draco, are you going to try to find a job at the Ministry?"

For a moment it looked as if he was debating whether or not to answer her. "As the Malfoy heir I am encouraged to find a position at the Ministry." It sounded as if he had rehearsed this line hundreds of times before.

Beside her, Bellatrix frowned. "You don't want to work for the Ministry?"

He took a long time to answer, and when he did his voice was soft, "Not really."

The girls looked at each other, and Hermione immediately felt a rush of sympathy for the boy who had bullied her for six years.

"What would you like to do?" She prompted.

He smiled, "I think I'd like to be a healer. There are a lot of Pureblood families that don't go to St. Mungo's-"

Hermione felt Bellatrix lean closer to her, and she knew that they were both thinking of the memories that Bellatrix Lestrange had left her.

"The Malfoy's used to be great Healers," Draco continued. "My father is the first in generations not to become a Healer. He said that 'Healers are too close to servants'."

"Did he ever saw that in front of Abraxas?" Bellatrix's eyes were round with surprise.

Draco laughed, "Of course not. Not to my knowledge anyway," he added.

"What does Cissy think of it? You becoming a Healer?"

"She thinks it's a wonderful idea. First, she's convinced that I'll never be in danger if I'm a Healer," a fond grin crossed his features, "she thinks it's a way to keep me safe and out of harm's way forever. And second, if I'm a healer I'll be able to-"

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion when he suddenly stopped speaking. She glanced quickly at Bellatrix, and was surprised to find her girlfriend scowling.

"I'm so glad that Narcissa approves of your plans," said Bellatrix sourly. "I just hope you are doing them for your own sake and not because your mother doesn't know when to mind her own business."

They fell into an awkward silence after that. Draco fiddled nervously with the edge of his robe, and Bellatrix stared through the window with narrowed eyes.

_That went well_, Hermione thought sarcastically as she pulled out a book. _Hopefully things will get better once we reach the castle. _

* * *

"Well, at least it's nice," Neville offered awkwardly as the group of returning seventh-years stood around their new common room.

In an effort to promote an image of unity Professor McGonagall had decided that the small group of returning seventh-years would not live with their respective houses. Instead, she had created a new living space not far from the Library. Hermione was ecstatic. She was already making plans to spend most of her evenings there. She would have regardless of where she was sleeping, but that was not the point.

The brunette witch smiled gratefully at Neville, and stepped into the room. The furniture was all brown leather, and the wooden floors were polished so that they reflected the light from the floating candles. Four tapestries reflected the different Houses and Hermione grinned fondly at the roaring lion.

"Neville's right," she commented, "It could be a lot worse." She looked back to where Bellatrix and Draco lingered in the doorway. Both had remained silent throughout dinner. Draco in particular was avoiding the accusatory glare from Dean Thomas who, along with Justin Finch-Fletchley, had also returned.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, "I hope they're not expecting us to sleep in a room with _him_," he said, jerking his chin towards Draco.

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Bellatrix. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and the air around her seemed to crackle with irritation.

Hermione groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to deal with tonight was a fight between Bellatrix and Dean.

"Only that I don't really want to die before I've finished my education," Dean retorted.

Draco looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Well there's only two doors," Bellatrix spat, "So unless you want to sleep in the common room-"

"And leave Justin and Neville alone with him?" Dean shook his head, "No, I don't think so."

Hermione's brow furrowed, "Draco has been cleared of all charges," she pointed out, "He's not going to hurt anyone."

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," there was a stubborn glint in Dean's eye, and Hermione knew that Bellatrix was close to hexing him, "If the public knew that we were forced to sleep with a murderer-"

"Harry trusts him," Neville interjected softly, but all eyes swiveled towards him, "So we can trust him."

"What if Harry's mistaken?" Dean questioned.

Bellatrix stalked forward so that her nose was mere inches away from Dean's, "Be careful what you insinuate," she growled.

Hermione quickly jumped to Bellatrix's side, "What if Draco slept in our Dormitory?" She suggested, wrapping her fingers around Bellatrix's wand hand to prevent her from harming Dean. "I'm sure that there's plenty of room."

Suspicion flickered in his eyes, and Hermione felt a flare of anger in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't you dare question me or Bellatrix," she hissed, "We fought beside you in the final battle!"

To his credit Dean instantly backed down. "I know," he said quickly, "I didn't mean-I'd never…" His eyes darted to Bellatrix, and he licked his lips, before saying in an earnest voice, "Sorry."

She nodded once, and Hermione knew it was the best they were going to get.

"Let's go unpack," she looped one arm around Bellatrix and grasped Draco's sleeve. "Good night," she said to the three remaining boys. There was a chorus of "Good night", and then they pushed through the door marked "Girls."

"It's lucky that the usual charms aren't in place," whispered Hermione as they all passed through the door. "Harry and Ron were never able to get into the Girl's Dormitory in Gryffindor Tower.

The room had two of the usual four-poster beds, a large desk with two chairs (Hermione smiled to see that one was upholstered in Gryffindor Red, the other in Slytherin Green) and a large bookshelf. Hermione peeked through a door in the corner and confirmed that it was a bathroom.

"Well, this should be fun," she said, smiling at the other two.

Draco stared at his feet.

"Well…" Bellatrix said slowly, sharing a look with Hermione, "We can share a bed, so you can have this one-" she pointed to one of the beds, and flicked her wand so that the trunk beside it slid towards the other bed, "And we'll-"

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione's turned to see a sheepish-looking Neville lug Draco's trunk into the room. "Thought I'd bring it over," he explained, setting it down.

"Thanks," Draco muttered.

"Listen," Neville scratched the back of his neck, "They'll get over it. They're just feeling a little competitive."

"So it's best to coddle them until they come around, is that it?" Bellatrix asked sharply.

Draco sighed, "It's not Longbottom's fault," he told her, "It's mine."

Bellatrix huffed in response, and busied herself by opening her trunk.

"Goodnight, Neville," Hermione gave the boy a slight smile as she offered him an excuse to leave.

He grinned in thanks, and strode back through the door. Before he walked through it however, he turned. This time the awkwardness in his eyes was replaced by some of the expression he wore during the final battle.

"If you've really changed you're going to need to prove it," he said. And Hermione felt a little pride in the authority his voice projected. "Why don't you sit with me during lessons? I can't think of anything more convincing than that."

Surprise crossed Draco's face, and for a moment Hermione feared he would reject the offer. But the moment passed.

"Alright," Draco said.

Neville nodded once, and exited.

"Don't look so surprised."

Hermione looked up to see Draco smirk at her.

"I'm not surprised," she denied.

He shook his head, and retrieved his trunk. "Well, I just want to remind you both that you'll be sharing this room with your nephew and future nephew-in-law, so please refrain from- AARGH!" he screamed when he pulled back the hangings on his four-poster.

Hermione and Bellatrix rushed to his side, and burst into laughter.

There, in the middle of the bed, was Crookshanks. The ginger cat stretched contentedly, spreading more of his fur across the black bedspread.

"Well," Bellatrix's eyes sparkled with mirth, "looks like you won't be sleeping alone either."

_This is going to work_, Hermione thought, looking back and forth between the two. Just like that, all her fears were wiped away.

But the next morning she noticed that the floorboards where Bellatrix had been standing were singed.

* * *

**A/N: So here's chapter two! Please let me know what you think.**

BCRebel: There will definitely be an Andromeda/Bellatrix story arc a little later in the story. Right now Narcissa is more involved in Bellatrix's life because of Draco, but Andromeda will be showing up soon.

Thank you so much to: weemel10, CaraCersei, BCRebel, littledragonflyson, Rannon Silverthorne, theundeadhero95, lemon-rind, triad wolf, NoPowerInThe'VerseCanStopMe, BexCatchingFire, alex1966, Justine, drivensam, jennybenny2845, and several anonymous guests! Your reviews made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I'm so grateful for them.


	3. Chapter 3

(September 1998)

The next morning, Hermione and Bellatrix kept Draco between them as the trio took a seat at the square table that had been set up in a corner of the Great Hall for the returning Seventh Years.

Hermione resisted the urge to sigh as Bellatrix and Dean shot each other dirty looks over the butter dish. Justin looked extremely uncomfortable as he avoided making eye contact with anyone, but Neville greeted them enthusiastically.

"I've got your time-tables," he said, passing them across the table once the newcomers had filled their plates, "Professor Sprout just gave them to us." He pointed to a handwritten note on the side of Hermione's time-table, "We've all got meetings with McGonagall this morning."

"Hey, she's scheduled ours at the same time!" Bellatrix exclaimed, pulling Hermione's across the table.

"She must have a reason," Draco commented, glancing meaningfully to Hermione.

Hermione nodded slightly, and studied her time-table. "There's a mistake," she frowned, and looked over at Draco's parchment, "I've got a free period instead of Transfiguration."

"Me too," Bellatrix commented.

"Maybe McGonagall thinks you've learned everything you need to?" Neville shrugged.

Hermione sighed, "I hope not, we've only got a few months before our exams-"

Draco's eyes widened comically, "You can't be serious."

"She is," Bellatrix laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly and went back to memorizing her schedule.

"Post is here!" Justin squeaked, pointing.

Hermione looked up to the usual flurry of feathers and talons. A couple of First Years- Muggleborns, most likely- let out excited shrieks, and she smiled as a tiny blur zoomed over to Ginny.

Three large eagle owls swooped over to their table and landed in front of Draco. Each carried a considerably large parcel.

"They're from Mother," Draco explained, reaching into his robes and pulling a handful of treats from his pocket.

Bellatrix arched a brow, "Prepared for them, were you?"

Draco smiled, "Mother sends one every year," he said.

"And this year she decided to send three?"

His cheeks darkened, "Not just for me," he protested, "You've got eyes, haven't you?" He pointed to the elegant handwriting on one of the parcels that read _Bellatrix_, and then to another that said _Miss Granger_.

Hermione gently pulled on the twine that bound the parcel with her name on it to one of the owl, and slid it towards herself quickly once it was free. The owl fixed her with a glare, but accepted the treat Draco offered and flew off with the others soon after.

Bellatrix and Draco were already unwrapping their parcels, so she gently peeled back the paper. The first thing she saw was an envelope that was addressed to her in the same script. Curious, she opened it and read:

_Dear Miss Granger, _

_I hope you are well. Draco mentioned that your birthday is in September. I hope you find the enclosed gifts to be satisfactory. _

_Please do not hesitate to write if she is experiencing any trouble. She has never been vocal about her issues, and I feel that she may not be ready to accept me as someone she can confide in. I hope that if you need someone to talk to about Bella's unique situation you will trust me enough to come to me. _

_Best, _

_Narcissa_

Hermione looked down to find that the parcel held a box containing a dozen potions bottles, each with shimmering contents and a handwritten label with directions on how to use them.

Draco peered over her shoulder and let out an appreciative whistle. "Mother must really want to impress you. Those are from her own personalized collection. She only brews them once a year, and only ever for members of the family." A broad grin stretched across his face, "Well done."

Warmth spread through her chest, and she felt her cheeks redden in surprise. _She likes me_, she thought with an internal squeal. Then she remembered who exactly they were talking about, _Well, maybe not yet. But she will! _

Draco, who was watching her, let out a fond laugh. "I'll tell her you're happy with them."

Hermione nodded, and gently bundled up the potions. She cast a few spells to protect them from breaking and to shrink them, then stored them in her schoolbag.

She looked up just as Bellatrix tipped a small mountain of sweets into her bag. The dark-haired witch caught her eye and smirked, "Cissy was always good in the kitchen."

Hermione caught the look on Draco's face, and nearly burst out laughing. He watched Bellatrix stuff the contents of her parcel into her bag with his mouth hanging open.

"Right," Bellatrix gave the bag a shake and then slung it onto her back. "We'd better leave if we want to make it to Charms on time."

Neville leapt to his feet, knocking over the pitcher of milk in his haste.

"Are you coming?" Hermione asked Draco as she stood.

He shook his head, "My meeting with McGonagall is in fifteen minutes."

She nodded, and took Bellatrix's offered hand. "You can borrow my notes," she called over her shoulder, smiling when he nodded to show he had heard.

* * *

"Can you believe how much homework he assigned?" Bellatrix groused later that morning as they emerged from the Charms classroom. "It's the first day!"

Hermione hummed in amusement, "He's preparing us for our exams."

"You'd think he'd have a little more faith in our ability," Bellatrix mumbled. "At least we have the next two hours to get started."

"Actually, we have our meeting with McGonagall in…" Hermione looked at her watch, "ten minutes."

Bellatrix let out a groan, and looked hopefully towards the ceiling, "Maybe Peeves will do something awful enough-"

"Don't finish that sentence!" Hermione laughed. The last thing she wanted was to see Peeves or his handiwork.

Although Hermione had only been in Dumbledore's office a few times, she was surprised at how much it had changed when she and Bellatrix entered. Instead of the strange silver instruments, McGonagall had filled the room with massive bookcases- each one crammed with books. There were several maps of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade stretched across the wall behind her desk, and little dots of different colors moved around them. Hermione noticed that there were six colors on the Hogwarts map- Red, Blue, Yellow, Green, Black, and one ugly brown splotch that zigzagged around the astronomy tower.

"Admiring my new map, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked from where she sat behind her desk, "Mr. Potter suggested it to me during the reconstruction."

"Is it color coded by House?" Bellatrix asked curiously, plopping down in one of the wooden chairs that McGonagall had placed in front of her desk. Hermione immediately sat down in the one beside it.

"And black for staff," McGonagall nodded, "And Peeves," she gestured towards the brown splotch, "I thought it might make my life a little easier to know his whereabouts." There was a stack of folders beside her, and she pulled the two on top down.

"Before we begin, I wanted to inform both of you that the Ministry will be providing private Healer sessions for all students who were involved in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Hermione and Bellatrix exchanged confused looks.

"But Professor, we were healed right after the war," Hermione explained. "Neither of us was hit with a long-lasting or incurable curse, so I don't think-"

McGonagall gently interrupted her, "The Healers are not for the physical damage, Miss Granger, but rather for the psychological effects of the war. You've noticed that you have Friday afternoons free?"

Hermione nodded.

"That is so that you may go to Saint Mungo's once a week to discuss… anything you wish with a healer who specializes in psychological trauma."

Bellatrix cleared her throat, "Do we have the right to refuse?"

Hermione looked over at her in surprise. Her girlfriend was sitting very rigidly in her chair, but her face was schooled into a careful expression of ambivalence.

It seemed as if McGonagall had not expected this question. She blinked several times, and pursed her lips. "I would advise against it," she said in a warning tone, "but no one will be forced to attend."

"Good," Bellatrix nodded, "Then I won't be going."

"Miss Black, there's nothing shameful in seeking help for these sorts of things. I know that the older families do not approve of-"

"It has nothing to do with my family," Bellatrix interjected. "I'm not interested in putting the secret of my identity in jeopardy." Her jaw clenched, "I think it's an unnecessary risk."

"As part of the Golden Quartet I think it's essential that you both-"

Bellatrix interrupted McGonagall again, "Hermione can go. She won't say anything, I know it."

Hermione dug her fingernails into the wooden arm of her chair and watched as McGonagall stared down the bridge of her nose at Bellatrix. The ebony-haired witch's expression was set, however, and after a few moments the headmistress gave in.

"Very well," she sighed, "I cannot force you to do anything. If you change your mind, let me know."

Bellatrix's voice was confident, "I won't."

"Miss Granger, will you be refusing sessions as well?"

Hermione glanced at Bellatrix, who wore an encouraging smile. "I think… I think I'd like to try them," she said carefully.

Bellatrix's hand clasped hers, and gave a reassuring squeeze. Hermione instantly felt better.

"Very good," McGonagall nodded."Now," she cleared her throat and opened the first folder, "Miss Granger, your career plan has not changed from fifth year, am I correct?"

Hermione grinned, "That's right."

"Well, your marks are excellent, as usual," the tiniest of smiles stretched across the headmistress' face, "And I've already received twelve inquiries from several departments-"

"You have?" squeaked Hermione. She could hear Bellatrix's laughter from beside her.

McGonagall's smile grew, "I have, and I've asked them not to bother you until after you've taken your exams-but I daresay that you'll have your pick of Ministry departments when you leave Hogwarts."

An excited flush had spread across Hermione's features, "Thank you!"

McGonagall waved a hand, and opened the other folder. "Now Miss Black, your previous records are unavailable, but your letter said that you would like to join Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley in Auror training when you leave school-"

"Yes," Bellatrix cut in, "which is why it's important that I take Transfiguration. I'm honestly surprised that you haven't already-"

"May I finish?"

At McGonagall's cold tone, Bellatrix's mouth snapped shut, and she nodded- her cheeks pinking.

"While I am certain that our new Transfiguration teacher is more than competent, I believe the two of you may be far more advanced than his current NEWTs-level students. Therefore I would like to extend an invitation to continue our weekly advanced lessons."

Hermione grinned broadly, "Thank you Professor!" she looked over to see Bellatrix's excited face.

"Good. I thought you would say that, so I've taken the liberty of drafting a lesson plan…"

The rest of the day went by quickly. Hermione and Bellatrix returned to their dorm room that evening in high spirits.

"What's got you two so excited?" Draco asked as he threw his bag onto his bed. He sat down beside it and pulled his books out.

Hermione bit her lip, not entirely sure of what to say. Bellatrix, on the other hand, had absolutely no qualms about sharing with the boy.

"McGonagall's going to teach us how to become Animagi!" she crowed, falling onto the bed she and Hermione shared and bouncing.

_So much for discretion_, Hermione sighed inwardly. She looked at Draco, expecting to see jealousy, but instead the boy looked bemused.

"I didn't know that turning into some mangy animal could make someone so excited," he commented as Bellatrix burst into a round of laughter.

"It wouldn't make _you _excited?" Hermione asked.

He shook his head, "Been there, done that," he said with a shiver. "It's not for me. If Bellatrix wants to be a turtle, well, good for her."

"Oh, I'm not going to be a turtle," Bellatrix giggled, rolling over so that she could look at them. "I'm going to be something useful like… like a lioness!"

"How very Gryffindor of you," he drawled.

Bellatrix was unfazed, "Not a lioness then, not that there's anything wrong with lions darling," she grinned at Hermione, "but maybe an adder, or an eagle-"

"Better practice your flying then," he smirked.

There was a pause, in which Hermione unconsciously backed up several steps. Then…

Bellatrix shrugged. "Ok."

The smirk vanished instantly. "What?"

She was already standing, an evil smirk on her face, "I should practice, right?"

"Bella," Hermione tried, "maybe now isn't the right time. Or place."

But Bellatrix was already spreading her arms.

Draco shook his head, "Don't you _dare_!"

The last word came out as more of a shriek. Hermione cringed, unable to look away as Bellatrix launched herself from their bed across the room, and somehow (Hermione was certain it was accidental magic) managed to reach Draco's bed. She tackled the boy with a triumphant yell, crashing into him with a clatter that sent his books flying in every direction.

"Get off me!" Draco yelled.

Bellatrix laughed, and tousled his hair. "What's the matter, Draco?" she crooned, "You don't like having your personal space invaded?"

"Hermione!" He cried, looking pleadingly over to her.

Hermione sighed. "Bella, if we're all going to live together we have to respect each other's boundaries."

Bellatrix straightened, and actually _pouted _at her.

Hermione opened her mouth, but was interrupted as a loud _CRACK! _Filled the room.

"Thimble!"

Bellatrix threw herself from the bed and tackled the elf into a hug. "How was it at the Grangers'?" She asked, "Are they all settled?"

"Thimble has ensured that everything is as it was before the memory charm," Thimble squeaked as she was passed to a much gentler (but no less enthused) Hermione.

"We missed you," the brunette said, setting the elf back on her feet.

Thimble grinned up, her eyes misty, "Thimble worried about the little Miss, especially as it is the last year of school. Does Miss need anything at all?"

"No thank you," Hermione said, beaming back.

"Then Thimble will visit her son, if the little Miss does not mind?"

"Of course not! You don't need to ask my permission, you can do whatever you'd like."

Thimble's green eyes twinkled, and she vanished with another _CRACK!_

"You've thoroughly bewitched her." Bellatrix stated. Her eyes narrowed teasingly, "She barely remembers me anymore."

"Oh stop, Bella. She loves you more than anything."

"Well, perhaps she loves me more than anything, but she does not love me more than _anyone_. And who could blame her?"

Bellatrix's voice had dropped to a whisper as she leaned close enough for Hermione to feel her breath on her cheek.

Draco cleared his throat from across the room. "Please don't forget that I'm here," he said seriously. "I'm trying to read, and I'd much rather not see anything-" his face turned beet red, "_inappropriate._"

A predatory smile crossed Bellatrix's face, and she whispered "Then don't look," right before capturing Hermione's lips with her own.

There was a sound of a book snapping shut, and then Draco muttered, "I guess I'll be finishing this in the Library, then."

Hermione grinned, and allowed Bellatrix to pull her closer.

* * *

A/N: Whew! This chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought it would be. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but it's been too long since I last updated, so here it is. The next chapter is almost finished and will be out MUCH faster. Please let me know what you think, your reviews are the best motivation!

Coures- Hopefully this chapter answered your question =)

Justine- Bella's definitely dealing with something that she doesn't want to admit.

MelodiDam and jennybenny2845- It's definitely not going to be easy for Hermione and Bella, but I'm planning for it to be less angsty than THAW.

Thank you so much to CaraCersei, lemon-rind, Coures, Justine, MelodiDam, Rebecca, Slendy prime, theundeadhero95, jennybenny2845, and Guest for reviewing. You guys all made me smile so wide that my roommates thought something was seriously wrong with me. Thank you!

AND A HUGE THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWED/FAVORITED!


	4. Chapter 4

(October 1998)

Hogwarts had always been one of Bellatrix's favorite places. She had always been able to think clearer, and had always had a better grasp on her emotions.

Which was why she was confused.

Ever since she had returned her nerves had felt raw and exposed. It was as if every emotion had been magnified tenfold. She felt as if something had grasped her ankle and pulled her to the bottom of the lake, and now she was desperately trying to claw her way to the surface so that she could breathe.

She stalked back and forth along the edge of Hagrid's garden. It was Friday afternoon, which meant that Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Ginny had all used the Floo in Professor McGonagall's office to go see their Healers at St. Mungo's. It was recommended that every student who had fought in the war go see a Healer regularly for therapy. Hermione's swore that she felt much better after her sessions. She had taken to journaling every night before bed, as had Draco.

She kicked a pebble, and watched it bounce off of one of Hagrid's giant pumpkins. Hermione had seemed to support Bellatrix's decision not to attend the sessions. _"If you're not comfortable with it Bella, then you shouldn't do it." _But Hermione had been watching her carefully for weeks, and Bellatrix found it harder and harder to keep herself calm around her girlfriend. She did not want to worry the brunette.

A mild breeze ruffled her curls, and she glared in the direction of the castle. It was a beautiful day, and she took it as a personal insult that the fresh air was doing nothing at all to lighten her mood.

Even though it was warm, she could not stop shivering. Her entire body was stiff and on edge, and she could not do anything to stop it.

The worst part about it was that _Narcissa had been right_. The thought alone was enough to make Bellatrix pale with fear.

_What if it goes as badly as it did before?_ She thought, scratching at her arm hard enough to draw blood. _What if this was all for nothing?_

It was not the first time she had thought like this, but usually there was a reassuring voice that told her things would be different this time around.

She _really _missed that voice.

Fat, cold raindrops began to fall. It was not long before her robes were soaked through, and she let out a growl of frustration before finally stomping back to the castle.

"It's her!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes as the familiar high-pitched voice announced her arrival to the Entrance Hall. There were three students who had been following her ever since the first week of term. It seemed that wherever she went outside of the common room, these three were not far behind.

The owner of the high-pitched voice was a Slytherin second year who introduced herself as Lydia, but Bellatrix always referred to her as Shriek. She had straight, dusty brown hair that was chopped off at the shoulder, and a thin mouth that always seemed to be pouting.

Behind her two first years struggled to keep up with Bellatrix's long strides. They were fraternal twins, and presumably Shriek's younger siblings. The girl- who Bellatrix called Goldie on account of her wheat-colored hair- wore a Slytherin tie, while to boy- she called him Mousy due to the terrified expression he wore every day- was dressed in Hufflepuff colors.

"Wait!" Shriek cried as Bellatrix sped up. "I need to ask you something!"

Ignoring this, Bellatrix hurtled down a corridor in hopes of losing them. Her hands ached to hex them, but she repressed this feeling. Hopefully they would get the hint and leave her alone.

Unfortunately for her, they continued their pursuit.

"Miss Bellatrix! Please wait!"

The sound of Goldie's voice nearly made Bellatrix take pity on them. The younger girl had only spoken out loud twice before, and her voice was not nearly as annoying as her sister's.

But then she was at the secret passage that led to the corridor between her common room and the library. At first glance it looked like an ordinary broom closet, but the back wall was really a doorway that led to a single flight of stairs. She locked the door behind her and hoped that they had not yet learned _Alohomora _yet.

She let out a small "Ha!" when she heard their fists banging on the door, still pleading with her to listen.

_Maybe this will keep the little brats away for a bit_, she thought a few minutes later as she strolled into the common room.

"Miss Bellatrix is soaked to the bone!"

Bellatrix's lips twitched in a smile as Thimble rushed across the common room to pull the cloak from her shoulders. The little elf was still dressed proudly in Gryffindor colors.

The witch was pushed into a chair by the fire, and she accepted the cup of tea that Thimble thrust into her hands. The drink warmed her chest almost immediately, and Bellatrix recognized the calming elf magic that Thimble had used since her infancy.

"Thimble took care of the burned chair in the Charms classroom."

The elf's tone made her fidget a little in her seat. "Thank you, Thimble."

"That's the third one this week, Miss Bellatrix."

Bellatrix sighed, and drew her eyes up to Thimble's. The elf was staring at her in concern.

"It's not a big deal," she tried, "someone called Draco a Death Eater-"

"Young Malfoy can take care of himself," Thimble said sternly, looking remarkably like Hermione at that moment, "he is stronger than most think. Miss Bella on the other hand-"

"I'm just as strong as Draco is!" Bellatrix snapped.

Anyone else's elf would have been howling on the floor by then, begging for forgiveness. Thimble merely continued to maintain eye contact. "Yes, Miss Bella is physically as strong as young Malfoy, but Thimble worries that…"

Bellatrix struggled to breathe deeply as she leapt to her feet. "You think that I'm going mad," she accused, eyes wide. "You all think that I'm going mad!"

"Thimble said no such thing!"

"But you meant it!" Bellatrix's skin raced with electricity, "Say it, say that you meant it."

Thimble's chin quivered, but she held her ground. "Thimble will not say something she does not believe."

"SAY IT!" Bellatrix roared.

The chair closest to her burst into flame, and Bellatrix dropped her teacup in surprise.

The elf sprang into action. She snapped her fingers several times in quick succession, dousing the flames and cleaning up the shattered fragments of the cup. She ran her hand over the charred wood, restoring it's original appearance.

"There, Miss Bellatrix, everything's as good as new."

"What's happening to me Thimble?" Bellatrix's voice was thick with emotion as she sank to her knees before the elf. She wrapped her arms around herself, "It's happening again, isn't it? I'm going to be just like before." The memories she had seen in the pensieve rushed through her mind. Her stomach gave an uneasy lurch.

"Of course not," the elf soothed, moving to wrap her arms around the witch. "Everything is going to be fine."

Bellatrix felt the calming magic again, and she found herself sinking into the touch. "You can't promise that," she whispered. "What if it's worse than before? What if I do something to Hermione?" The image of Hermione bursting into flames was enough to send tears coursing down Bellatrix's face.

Thimble's voice was firm, "Nothing is going to happen to Miss Hermione. Nothing is like it was before," Thimble stroked Bellatrix's curls soothingly, "Everything will be fine."

"You can't promise that."

There was a low rumble as the elf laughed. "Thimble can do whatever she wants, Mistress Bellatrix gave her permission years ago."

Bellatrix looked up to see the grin stretched across the beloved elf's face.

"Come now, Miss Bella. You should rest."

Bellatrix allowed herself to be led to the dormitory, where the elf tucked her into bed as if she were four years old again.

She watched as Thimble moved around the room, tidying up after the three teenagers. The only light came from the fire, and it seemed to illuminate all the wrinkles Thimble had accumulated over the years. It suddenly struck Bellatrix how long the elf had been with her, and how much she had undoubtedly given up in taking care of the witch.

"Thimble…" Her voice was soft, and vulnerable, and the elf turned immediately, "I love you."

Tears filled the large green eyes immediately, "Thimble loves Miss Bellatrix too," the elf smiled, "Thimble has always loved Miss Bellatrix."

Bellatrix exhaled deeply, and felt as if something heavy had been lifted from her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut as she listened to Thimble move around the room.

* * *

If she thought the three younger students would lose interest in her, she was mistaken.

As it turned out, the trio's efforts were doubled. They took to patrolling the corridor in front of her common room, and somehow managed to discover two of her secret passages on their own. She still managed to evade them, however, but it was getting more and more bothersome to do so.

Several days later she sat in the library. Her Herbology book was open in front of her, but her thoughts were too scattered for her to pay attention. It was as if every time she went to write something down the thought vanished.

"Bellatrix!"

The dark-haired witch glanced up and smiled as Hermione approached. "I was just about to come find you," she said, closing the book. She caught the look on Hermione's face, "What's wrong?"

"I just finished talking with Mary Striker," there was a current of irritation in Hermione's voice.

Bellatrix blinked slowly, "Who?"

There was an exasperated sigh, "She's a first year Slytherin! She and her siblings have been trying to speak to you for a month!"

Comprehension dawned, "Oh! You must mean Goldie!" Bellatrix grinned.

Hermione was not amused. "Her name isn't _Goldie_, it's Mary. Have you really been fleeing from them? They _idolize _you! It would mean the world to them if you took a few minutes to speak to them."

Bellatrix bit her tongue as the words _I'm sorry, I've been too busy trying to prevent a mental breakdown to play with a bunch of children! _Threatened to come out. Instead, she exhaled dramatically. "Fine, I'll let them talk to me. But I want them to stop ambushing me wherever I go!" she added sourly.

"If you'd talk to us in the first place, we wouldn't have to," Shriek said, emerging from behind a shelf with her siblings.

Bellatrix glowered at her, "Stop talking right now. The pitch of your voice is going to attract that horrible Librarian."

"Madam Pince," Hermione supplied.

Bellatrix smirked, "Oh, I know her name, I just don't like using it." The glare she received made her laugh.

"Well, I have to talk to Professor Sprout about the subject of my essay," said Hermione, an evil grin spreading across her face. "Have a good chat!" She winked at Bellatrix before turning on her heel and striding away.

Bellatrix groaned inwardly, _I highly doubt it_. Out loud she said, "Alright, you may speak. But not you," she pointed at Shriek, "Goldie's the one who was brave enough to approach Hermione, how very Gryffindor of you," she said to the girl, who blushed as Bellatrix continued, "so she can be the one to talk."

Shriek opened her mouth in protest, "That's not fa-"

"Ah, ah!" Bellatrix tsk-ed in disapproval, "You're already not listening to my words. Should this conversation wait until you learn manners?"

Eyes wide, Shriek shook her head and made a show of clamping her mouth shut.

"Good," Bellatrix said, losing a bit of her energy. She sank back against her chair. "You may begin," she sighed.

Goldie shared a look with her sister, who nodded. Bellatrix watched in growing amusement as the blonde girl straightened her shoulders and smoothed her house tie.

"Miss Black, you are our hero-"

"Skip that part, I'm bored already," yawned Bellatrix.

The girl looked pleadingly at her sister, who nodded again.

"W-well, we wanted to know if you would consider tutoring us? Like the Boy-Who-Lived tutored Dumbledore's Army." Goldie hastened to explain.

"We could call ourselves _Bellatrix's Army_!' Gushed Shriek.

Bellatrix was too bewildered to point out that Shriek had, once again, spoken without permission. She stared at the three hopeful faces. It suddenly occurred to her how much _shinier_ children were in this time period. Everything about them, from their eyes to their polished shoes, seemed to be begging her to say yes. That overpowering urge to hex them surfaced, and it was this that caused her to burst into laughter.

"Absolutely not!" she crowed, drawing attention from the students around them.

The girls blushed furiously, while the boy looked as if he might burst into tears.

Shriek misinterpreted the words, "Well, we could also call it _Black's Legion_-"

"It's not the name," Bellatrix laughed sarcastically, "it's the idea! Why, in Merlin's name, would you think that _I _would be a suitable teacher? It's very well-known that I have a short temper, I think there might be an article about it-"

"July 14th, _The Rage of Bellatrix Black_," said Mousy quietly. He stared intently at his clasped hands, as if he was afraid to see her reaction.

Bellatrix arched a brow, "As ecstatic as I am by the fact that you can talk, I ask again, why would you want _me _to tutor you? Go ask Hermione."

"She's a Gryffindor!" Gasped Shriek, "And a… well, a-" the girl trailed off and redirected her gaze towards her shoes.

Bellatrix's eyes flashed dangerously, "A Muggle-born? Is that why you don't want to ask her?" Her lip curled in disgust.

"No, it's not the fact that she's a Muggle-born," Goldie said, her eyes wide and pleading. "Our father's a Muggle-born!" Shriek nodded so vigorously that Bellatrix was convinced her head would pop off.

"It's not her blood," Goldie continued, "it's that, well… We're in Slytherin, except for Georgie-" she nodded to Mousy, "and Miss Granger…"

"Slytherins and Gryffindors don't mix well." Shriek stated flatly.

Goldie nodded, "We would be more comfortable with you," she said quietly. "You understand our world better, and you're just so…" he eyes grew shiny with admiration, "_cool_."

It was one of the most ridiculous moments of Bellatrix's life. She paused for a moment, taking in the expectant faces, and then stood.

"No."

It was as if the younger students had all been struck with a tear-inducing hex. Shriek's chin actually wobbled. "What do you mean, 'No'?"

Bellatrix sighed, and flexed her wand hand, "I would not be a good teacher. If you want to have private lessons ask a teacher." She crammed her things into her schoolbag, and slung it over her shoulder. "And don't bother me again. I'm here to study for my NEWTs, not to sign autographs."

She left them standing dumbstruck in the library, and hurried to her dormitory.

"Someone's having a good day," Draco commented sarcastically when she flung their door open so hard that it smacked against the wall with a _bang!_

Bellatrix threw her bag onto the bed she shared with Hermione. "I'm fine," she growled. Her feet instinctively began to pace back and forth in front of her bed.

Draco studied her from his bed. She did not like the expression in his eyes- as if he knew something she did not. She scowled at him, "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything," he answered smoothly. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't start that, Draco," she said, feeling tired all of a sudden. "I'm not in the mood." She kicked her shoes off and fell onto the bed. Her eyes drifted shut, and for a moment the only sound in the room was of Draco's quill scratching across parchment.

"Mother wants to know how you're doing," Draco's voice was deceptively light.

Her eyes flew open. _Not this again_. "Tell her I'm fine."

"Are you?"

_Not really. _She let out a dark chuckle, "I'm as well as can be expected."

The scratch of his quill resumed. "You know that Mother could hire a private Healer-"

"No Healers," Bellatrix groaned, her voice half-muffled from her pillow. "Too many people know as it is, do you really want the public to know who I actually am?"

"Of course not, but if you don't talk to someone-"

She sat up immediately, "I'm doing the best that I can, Draco," she scathed. "I'm sorry if I don't want to risk talking to strangers about my feelings. I have everything under control!"

The hangings on her four-poster burst into flame.

"_Aguamenti!" _She shouted, dousing the flames instantly. "Thimble!" She squeaked, and the elf appeared with her usual _CRACK!_

Before Bellatrix could say anything, the elf had begun repairing the hangings. In moments the burns were gone.

Bellatrix's heart thumped like a jackhammer in her chest, and she struggled to get her breathing under control as she turned to meet Draco's wide eyes.

"See," she gasped, ignoring the tremor in her voice, "I have everything under control."

But they both knew she was lying.

"Does Hermione know? About the-" he gestured towards the hangings.

She shook her head, "I didn't want to worry her." It sounded like a lame excuse, and she was aware of the disapproving look that Thimble threw her way.

"She deserves to know," he said gently.

She nodded mutely. He was right.

"It'll be ok," Draco said, swallowing heavily.

"It has to be," Bellatrix said, tears pricking at her eyes, "I can't…"

"I know," he assured her, "I'll figure something out. Don't worry."

* * *

A/N: So here's a little insight into what's been going on with Bella. I figured I'd update a little sooner than usual to make up for how long it took last time. Please don't forget to Review!

littledragonflyson: I think Draco might find a love interest soon

Thank you so much to Coures, awnrw4eva, littledragonflyson, Justine, CaraCersei, and BexCatchingFire for reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Narcissa, _

_I hope you are well. Bella has been having some difficulty- we don't know what is going on exactly, as she refuses to admit anything to us, but Draco says that she has been having bursts of accidental magic-_

Hermione let out a growl of frustration and crumpled the parchment in her hand. She tossed it into the fireplace and watched it curl instantly.

"Having trouble?" Draco asked, glancing up from his schoolbook.

"I don't know how to keep your mother updated about what's been going on without betraying Bella's trust," Hermione explained, tapping her quill on the table.

They were in the empty common room- Dean and Seamus spent most of their time in their own room (Dean was still very vocal in his opinions about Draco), and Neville had volunteered to work in the Greenhouses several evenings a week. Hermione had not seen Bellatrix since their last class of the day, but she suspected the dark-haired witch was out wreaking havoc on Hagrid's garden again.

"Well, it's not as if you're actually betraying her trust- I mean, has she said anything to you about it?"

She scowled, "No. She hasn't said a word. I think she's trying to protect me."

Draco flipped a page, and stared intensely at the text. His eyebrows scrunched together in irritation.

After watching him for a few minutes, Hermione broke the silenced, "She doesn't need to protect me, you know. I can take care of myself perfectly well."

"Hm," said Draco, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Could you explain to me how tellyphones work again? I don't understand a word of this chapter."

Hermione bit back a smile as she explained for the third time how telephones work. As part of Draco's bargain with the Ministry he was required to take Muggle Studies- Harry himself had suggested it, much to his own amusement. Hermione had been delighted to find that Draco took his lessons seriously. He seemed fascinated by the ways in which Muggles had learned to cope without magic- so much so that Hermione sometimes feared they might have another Arthur Weasley on their hands.

They were deep in conversation about electricity when they heard a polite tap come from the window.

Hermione stood to open it, letting in a small grey school owl along with a gust of frigid October wind.

The owl flew directly to Draco, and dropped the letter in front of the boy before swooping back through the window.

"I hope it's not another death threat," Draco mumbled as he ripped the envelope open.

She took her seat and pulled another sheet of parchment out. Perhaps writing a letter for her parents would be easier than writing Narcissa.

"Hermione."

She looked up at Draco's paling face. "What is it, what's wrong?"

He swallowed thickly, and dragged his eyes up to meet hers.

"We have a problem."

* * *

"Go over it one more time," Neville asked, leaning forward over his butterbeer.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term, and she, Bellatrix, Draco, Luna, Ginny and Neville were all crowded around a tiny table in the Hog's Head. The close proximity meant that it was very warm, and her hair seemed to double in size from the heat. She looked longingly out the dirt-streaked window, and wished that they could have met outside in the cool air. It was not safe, of course, but she wished it were.

"Yesterday, Hermione and I were studying," Draco began, sliding his half-empty glass back and forth between his hands. "-and one of the school owls delivered a letter inviting me to join a new club called 'The Guardians of the Pure', another Pure-blood supremacy group that seeks to, and I quote, _finish the job that the Dark Lord started._"

"Well they can't be that hard to find and sort out," offered Bellatrix, "_The Guardians of the Pure_, what kind of name is that? It's probably a bunch of first-years."

"It's a shame, really," Luna said dreamily, "It sounds so pretty. Like a name for an order of knights."

Hermione and Bellatrix shared a look, and struggled to conceal their grins. It was made more difficult by the Ravenclaw's next statement.

"I do hope that they wear plate armor. Draco, if they don't will you suggest it? I think it would be so lovely. Maybe they could have gold instead of steel? Though silver is of course more of a pure metal, you don't have to worry about Topsie infestations."

Draco stared, dumbfounded at her. "Er, I don't think I'll be talking to them Luna. I'd like to stay away from… _that_."

Neville gave him a tight smile.

"Well that's a shame. I think you would have looked very pretty in plate armor."

There was a choking noise, and Hermione looked over at a red-faced Bellatrix. The dark haired witch was doing her best to turn laughter into a coughing fit.

"What's our plan?" asked Ginny. She had been the first to respond when Hermione activated the old D.A. Galleons. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and part of Hermione suspected that her friend was looking for something to distract her from the fact that Harry and Ron had been sent to South America in pursuit of several Death Eaters. Neither boy had been able to write since their mission began several weeks earlier.

"I say we use the Marauder's Map to see if there are any groups of students meeting in strange places, or at strange times," suggested Neville.

"That's a good plan," Hermione agreed, "Ginny, do you still have it?"

"Of course I do!"

Bellatrix grinned, "We could patrol the corridor in front of the Room of Requirement."

"Ooh, yes," nodded Luna, "And we could practice our French too."

The others stared at her for a moment, before Hermione chirped "Yes, that too!"

Neville cleared his throat. "Realistically, though. Is this something we should be concerned about?"

"Well, like Bellatrix said, it looks like whoever wrote the letter was a younger student," Hermione traced her nail along a groove in the table. "The penmanship was very poor. Of course, we only had a brief glance at it before it burst into flames."

Ginny's eyes widened, "Burst into flames?"

Draco nodded, and finished his drink.

"Even if it's not a _serious _threat at the moment, it could attract the wrong kind of attention." Bellatrix had assumed the tone that Hermione privately referred to as 'General Bella'.

"She's right," agreed Hermione, "There are still Voldemort supporters out there. We need to make sure that they don't have a cause to rally around."

Luna hummed in agreement, and reached to turn Draco's empty glass upside down.

"I've already written a letter to the Auror department. Tonks is still in London, so she said to keep her updated on any new developments."

"I'm so glad it's Tonks," grinned Ginny. "Maybe she can meet us here soon? I'd love to see her!"

Bellatrix set her glass down with a loud _thunk_. "I don't think it's necessary to involve the Ministry," she groused. "We did fine without them during the war. Who's to say the Auror department isn't riddled with spies."

"_Spies?_" Ginny let out a dismissive laugh, "It's Tonks! She's practically family!"

Luna's voice cut across Ginny's giggle, "Sometimes we don't trust family because we don't think they trust us. We worry that they blame us for things we didn't really do."

It was one of those moments when Luna's words were a little _too correct_. Hermione's eyes found Draco's, and they shared a worried look. Bellatrix seemed frozen by the words, she just stared at the blonde girl with a dumbstruck expression. Even Ginny shifted awkwardly in her seat.

Neville looked curiously around the table for a moment. "Well, I think it's safe to say that we can trust Tonks." He said, his voice gentle but authoritative. Hermione felt another burst of pride at how far he'd come from the shy boy who asked her to help him find his toad on the Hogwarts Express.

The issue was dropped, their drinks finished, and the friends split up to enjoy the rest of their Hogsmeade visit separately.

"Do you suppose we'll ever have to pay for anything again?" Bellatrix asked cheerily after the Honeydukes clerk had refused to accept payment from "the saviors of Britain."

Hermione watched her girlfriend pop one of Honeydukes' ice mice into her mouth and giggle. "We should've insisted on paying, Bella. I always feel like we're taking advantage."

Bellatrix waved her hand dismissively, "Nonsense. We should have grabbed more sweets, that's what we should've done." Her eyes sparkled as they started the walk back to the castle. "It's nice, isn't it?" She asked after a moment.

Hermione, who had been lost in thought, asked "What is?"

"Having something to do again," grinned Bellatrix. "We've spent so long fighting against Voldemort that life seems, I don't know…"

Hermione's brow furrowed, "It's a good thing that he's gone, Bella. Now we have a chance to live a normal life."

"Our life will never be _normal _Mione." Bellatrix kicked at a pile of fallen leaves, and sent it cascading in front of her in a shower of orange and yellow.

"Maybe not in the traditional sense," Hermione forced her tone to be light, "but we can have everything we've ever wanted- a home, a family, a life without the threat of a psychopathic pureblood supremacist…"

Bellatrix seemed to think about that for a while. Her hand reached for Hermione's, and the two walked in silence as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

They were halfway to the school gate when Bellatrix stopped.

Hermione automatically whipped out her wand and scanned the area, "What's wrong?"

Bellatrix laughed, "Ready for that normal life, are you?" She gently pushed the tip of her wand down, "Nothing's wrong, I just had an idea."

Hermione followed Bellatrix's gaze to the side of the road, and more importantly the trees that stretched above them. "Oh no. No. No, Bella, we can't go into the forest, it's forbidden."

"Firstly, it's only forbidden on Hogwarts grounds. Secondly, how many times have _you_ gone into the forest?"

Hermione felt her cheeks color. "That was different."

"I'm sure it was. Come on, Hermione, where's that Gryffindor bravery?"

"It's not cowardly to want to follow the rules," but Hermione was already following the other witch into the trees.

There was no path in this part of the forest, and Hermione hoped that they would be able to find their way back to the road again. Bellatrix seemed unconcerned, laughing as she tripped over uplifted roots and stray vines.

"Don't be so serious!" Bellatrix called back as she ran ahead of Hermione, "We're having fun!"

_We're going to be killed by something_, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes as she broke into a run, "Bella, wait up!"

"No!" came the laughing reply, "Catch me!"

"Bella, really! I don't think-"

"Good! Thinking only complicates things!" Bellatrix stopped abruptly, and for a moment Hermione hoped that she had grown bored, and had decided that they should return to the road. Then she noticed the wand pointed at her.

"_Aguamenti!_"

Water spouted from the tip of Bellatrix's wand and shot Hermione in the face. "Bella!" She sputtered, gasping as water dripped from her chin and the tip of her nose.

Cackling in delight, Bellatrix turned around and sprinted through the forest.

The road forgotten, Hermione pursued her. Her legs pumped furiously as she wove through the trees, jumping over stones and dodging fallen logs. She burst through a spider web and didn't even blink as she drew closer to Bellatrix. The dark haired witch always managed to stay at least arm's length in front of her.

They came across a stream and followed it for a while until they came across a spot narrow enough to jump. Bellatrix did so with the grace of a cat, while Hermione slipped on a spot of mud on the opposite bank, and nearly fell into the water.

She found her footing again, and heard laughter in front of her.

"It's not funny!" She yelled, but she grinned in spite of herself. It had been so long since they had been able to play lightheartedly like this. It was worth the muddy boots and the face full of water to see Bellatrix throw her head back and howl with laughter.

The trees began to thin as they plunged up a hill, and Hermione's lungs began to burn. She was grateful to see that the other witch had stopped, and she slowed her pace as she drew nearer.

Bellatrix was standing on the edge of a clearing. "Hold on," she said, pulling her wand out as Hermione stopped beside her.

Hermione noticed instantly why Bellatrix was concerned. In the middle of the clearing stood a ruined cottage. Moss had covered most of the dark grey stones, and the crumbling wall that surrounded it, and a tree had grown through part of the sagging roof. It was not (by Hermione's standards) a habitable place, but that did not mean that no one hid there.

"_Homenum Revelio!_" chanted Bellatrix, and Hermione held her own wand at the ready as she waited for the results of the charm.

Bellatrix relaxed instantly, "There's no one here," she announced, tucking her wand back into the holster up her sleeve. "Let's go exploring."

After putting her own wand away, Hermione followed.

Bellatrix hopped over the wall with ease, and waited to help Hermione step over it. The moss was slick, and the brunette was happy for the help. She did not let go of Bellatrix's hand as they approached the cottage.

The door had rotted away so that it was little more than a pile of boards on the floor. Mildew had spread across the one whitewashed walls, and Hermione wrinkled her nose at the sour smell. Broken picture frames littered the floor, and the glass crunched beneath their feet as they walked further into the cottage.

"At least the floor is stone," commented Bellatrix as she peered into one of the rooms, "we don't have to worry about falling through."

Hermione followed her into a room with a broken piano. The wood, like the door, was mostly rotted away, but the ivory keys splayed across the floor as if waiting to be played. "Who do you think lived here?" she asked, examining the moldy purple velvet drapes that had fallen to the ground.

"Definitely a wizarding family," came the confident reply, as Bellatrix walked back to the corridor, "there's a house elf cupboard. My guess is that it was a poor Pureblood family."

Hermione followed her into the kitchen, where a large tree took up the majority of the room; then into the bedroom, where a wrought-iron bedframe still held a mattress. This was somehow the saddest room for Hermione, who looked at the pillows and the folded bedspread and thought, _Someone actually took the time to make their bed before they left. I wonder if they knew they wouldn't be coming back._

She felt arms wrap around her waist, and she leaned back into Bellatrix's warmth. The other witch smelled like the damp leaves and sharp pine of the forest, and it soothed Hermione's nerves.

"It's so sad."

Bellatrix squeezed her tighter, "The cottage?"

She nodded, "It's as if the previous owners just… disappeared, and the cottage has been waiting this whole time."

"Well, perhaps another family will come around and liven the place up a bit," Bellatrix whispered, kissing Hermione's cheek.

They continued to move through the home, until a sneezing fit from Hermione caused Bellatrix to pull her outside into the fresh air.

"You know," said Hermione a few minutes later as they sat on the wall looking at the cottage, "a few cleansing spells would take care of the mold and mildew, and after that it wouldn't take too much to make it livable."

"You want to live in the Forbidden Cottage?"

Hermione snorted, "The 'Forbidden Cottage', Bella? Are we writing penny dreadfuls now?"

Bellatrix smacked her knee, "It's in the Forbidden Forest, isn't it? Stop laughing, Mione, it's an ingenious name."

Hermione wrapped her arms around the other witch, and hugged her tightly, "It's a perfect name," she murmured, burying her face in Bellatrix's curls and sinking into her. "And I think we could make it lovely again."

"I think you're right," Bellatrix said, her voice warm with amusement.

They sat there for a long time as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, but Hermione could sense that something was on Bellatrix's mind, and she wanted to wait to see if the other witch would share.

Finally, Bellatrix cleared her throat. "Mione, I… something's not right."

Hermione waited for Bellatrix to continue, and was thankful when she did.

"I've been," Bellatrix swallowed audibly, and her voice was unusually high when she spoke next, "I've been having trouble controlling my emotions."

"Ok," Hermione said carefully.

There was a loud exhale, "I've been having moments where I accidentally set fire to things."

"I know. Draco told me."

Bellatrix whipped her head around, her eyes full of shock, "He did?"

She nodded slowly.

Bellatrix's face crumpled, "Are you angry with me?"

"Of course not!" Soothed Hermione as the ebony haired witch collapsed, sobbing, against her shoulder.

"Wh-wh-what if I go mad? It's happened before, not just to-to _the other me_, but to me! How can you love someone like that?"

Hermione stroked the dark curls, and pulled Bellatrix closer. "Bella, I love _you_. All of you. I loved you even when you were a Death Eater- it's true," she added, because Bellatrix had given a disbelieving snort, "and I'll love you forever no matter what."

"What if I end up on the permanent ward at St. Mungo's?" came the tearful reply.

Hermione pressed a kiss to her head, "Then I guess I'll have to rent a room there."

Bellatrix's voice was so soft that she almost could not hear it, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Oh, Bella," tears pricked at Hermione's eyes, and she fought to keep her voice steady. "I know." She wanted more than anything to promise that Bellatrix would never hurt anyone, but she had no idea if it was true.

"I just thought that I'd be able to do it right this time. To have a home and a family with you. But how can I have a family if they're in constant danger from _me?_"

Hermione rested her chin on Bellatrix's head. "Draco and I are looking for an answer," she said, "and we _will_. You're going to be ok, Bella. You and I are going to have a home and a family. We're going to live until we're old and wizened, and then we're going to die at the same time as the two most beloved witches in history."

Bellatrix looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and wet, "What did I do to deserve you?"

"I often ask myself the same question," Hermione said truthfully, ducking to brush her lips against Bellatrix's.

* * *

So that's the newest chapter! Please let me know what you think, your reviews fuel my muse.

Important- I need your input on something. I am considering deleting "A Good Elf" and "As the Pendulum Swings" and adding the chapters (minus the epilogue in "A Good Elf") to "Time Heals All Wounds. All of the content would remain, but it would be part of THAW instead of all chopped up in three parts. What do you think? Should I leave everything as it is, or combine it all into the original? Please let me know in the reviews.

Coures: Yes, Mousy is a Hufflepuff =)

jennybenny2845: I have someone else in mind for Luna, it won't be a major plot point, but it should be showing up in a few chapters. I'm not entirely sure who Draco will end up with yet though.

Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited, and a **huge** thank you to littledragonflyson, lemon-rind, BexCatchingFire, alex1966, Justine, Coures, jennybenny2845, and CaraCersei for reviewing!


	6. Chapter 6

Ok, the overwhelming majority of you told me to leave the stories in three separate parts, so I will. Thank you for your input, you've helped a lot!

* * *

Malfoy Manor had never been cozy. It was luxurious, of course. Every room was adorned with silk, polished marbles, precious jewels, and gleaming metals. Narcissa had always been proud of her home.

Now, as she stood alone in the darkened parlor with a glass of firewhiskey she could not help but think that the manor was a cold, unfriendly place. The rooms seemed to echo with the screams of countless victims who had been tortured-and worse- within these walls. Though she was technically free to come and go as she wished (Lucius had taken the full blame for their involvement in the war, and had readily accepted his life sentence in Azkaban on the condition that his wife and son remain free) she found herself unable to do so, and so the Manor had become her own prison.

She took a drink, ignoring the sting as the liquid slid down her throat.

"Mistress?" A timid voice asked from behind her.

She turned to see one of their house elves standing in the doorway. "What is it?" She asked, not at all pleased that she had been interrupted.

The elf wrung its hands, "Mistress has a visitor," it squeaked apologetically, "a Mrs. Tonks."

Narcissa stiffened in surprise. She had not seen her sister in decades. For a brief moment she considered turning the woman away. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she waved a hand at the elf.

"See her in."

With an agitated flick of her wand a fire roared to life in the fireplace and took a seat on the sofa. As an afterthought she summoned a book from the nearest bookcase- _The Epic of Wulfrin_, one of Lucius' favorites, and flipped it open to a random page. She did not want her older sister to think that she spent her days wallowing in self-pity. Even if it was the case.

The elf returned shortly after, and squeaked, "Mrs. Andromeda Tonks."

"That will be all," she said, not looking up from the line she was pretending to read. "Please take a seat," she ordered her sister, gesturing to the chair that sat across from her.

Andromeda said nothing about Narcissa's lack of courtesy as she crossed the room, and Narcissa used the silence to study her sister over the top of the book.

She was still pretty, Narcissa noted with some relief. Though not nearly as beautiful as she had been in her youth. Her figure was thicker than it had been when they had seen each other left, and her hair-though still shiny and full- had several grey stripes. She wore pale green robes of middling quality, but at least they were flattering.

"Hello, Andromeda," Narcissa said, setting aside the book.

Andromeda gave her a small smile, "It's good to see you, Narcissa."

"Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"I'd like that, thanks."

For a few minutes Narcissa was spared from the task of making small talk as she went about the task of summoning a teapot and pouring her sister the tea. Instead of pouring herself a cup, she tipped more firewhiskey into her glass, ignoring the unsteadiness of her hand as she poured. A plate of scones was fetched as well, buying them another few minutes as they ate and drank.

"It's been so long since I was here," Andromeda commented softly, looking around the room. "The last time I sat in this room Mother and Madam Malfoy teased me about wedding plans."

Narcissa arched a brow, and set her cup back onto its saucer with a sharp _clink_. "Yes, well, it's funny how things turn out, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," agreed Andromeda softly.

Narcissa could feel a headache pressing between her eyes. "Was there something that you wanted, Andromeda?"

Andromeda arched a brow, "Is that they way _Lady Malfoy _treats her guests? Mother must be rolling over in her grave."

"That's the way _Lady Malfoy _treats uninvited blood traitors," said Narcissa acidly. "And haven't you read the _Prophet_? I'm the 'disgraced Lady Malfoy' now, I think the rules for social visits have changed a bit." Her only company these days were the Ministry officials who dropped by every now and then to 'check in' and make sure that she wasn't harboring any fugitive Death Eaters.

The remaining Death Eaters were more likely to murder her in her sleep than to ask for refuge, but the Ministry seemed unconcerned about her safety. It was only after Harry Potter reminded everyone that _she _had saved his life that an emergency portkey was approved for her home.

"Well, I'll get to the point then," Andromeda said, and Narcissa had the faint sense that her sister was disappointed. "Have you heard from Draco recently?"

"Yes, of course I have," Narcissa snapped. Her headache was pounding against her skull now, and she twisted the silk of her robes between her fingers in an effort to distract herself. "I received a letter from him this morning."

"Has he mentioned anything about a group called 'The Guardians of the Pure'?"

The blonde narrowed her eyes in irritation, "No. Should he have?"

Andromeda shifted in her seat, and set her tea down. "It's a new movement for Pureblood supremacy. Hermione told Nymphadora that Draco had been invited to join-"

"He would _never_," scathed Narcissa, "If you're implying that Draco would put himself and his family through- through _that_ again-"

"Calm yourself Narcissa," Andromeda said in a commanding tone that had been polished by years of motherhood. "I said no such thing. I just thought you should know in case he failed to mention it in his letter."

He had failed to mention it, and Narcissa glowered at her sister as if she blamed her for her son's failure to mention his invitation. She wished that she could have the woman thrown off the estate, but unfortunately Andromeda knew more about her son's current predicament than she did.

"How serious is it? Is Draco in trouble?"

"Nymphadora doesn't seem to think so- at least, not at the moment. She says that the group at school is probably just a bunch of children. They may make a few demonstrations, but there are enough security measures in place that no one should be harmed."

Narcissa's shoulders slumped in relief. Then Andromeda's words fully registered. "Wait, the group at school? Is there another one?"

Andromeda hesitated, then nodded. "A letter was sent to Auror Department signed _The Guardians of the Pure_. My daughter told me that the Aurors originally thought it was a group of former Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathizers-"

"So you came to investigate me? I would have thought that your daughter knew better than to send her own mother into danger." Narcissa slurred, emptying her drink. She reached out for the crystal decanter, and sloshed more liquid into the glass.

"_Actually_, Nymphadora sent me here to warn you," continued Andromeda, watching the blonde with a pained expression. "It seems that the group might be recruiting Death Eaters, but it's actually separate from You-Know-Who's movement."

"Good for them. I'll let the Auror Department know if I hear from them. Do you remember the way out, or should I summon an elf?"

"Narcissa! I'm here to tell you that these so-called Guardians have contacted Draco!"

There was a moment of silence, in which Narcissa gaped at her sister. "You're lying," she said at last, her voice low, "Draco hasn't said anything. I received a letter this morning, and there was no mention of another blood supremacist group."

"Maybe he didn't want to worry you," suggested Andromeda, and the look of pity in her eyes made Narcissa's blood boil.

"You think you can come here and speak to me after _decades_ of silence?" She got shakily to her feet, and pointed a shaky finger at the brunette, "You think you know how my son, _my son whom you've never met_? How dare you?"

Andromeda let out a soft sigh, and reached into her sleeve. She pulled out a folded piece of parchment and offered it to the angry blonde. "Hermione wrote Nymphadora about it."

Narcissa snatched the piece of parchment with her free hand and raked her eyes over Hermione's neat writing. "Damn it!" she hissed, "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" She twisted and threw her glass at the wall. It shattered immediately on contact, splattering amber liquid all over the tapestry.

"That's mature," commented Andromeda.

Narcissa rounded on the brunette, her beautiful features scrunched into a feral snarl, "Shut your mouth, blood traitor! This is all your fault!"

"How is it my fault?"

This question seemed to truly puzzle Narcissa, but she recovered quickly, "You married a Muggle-born!"

Andromeda smirked, "And you married a criminal. How is Lucius, by the way? It must be lonely in this big empty house without him. I imagine, of course, that it must be far worse for him."

"Why, you- you _bitch!_" snarled Narcissa, she leapt at her sister, catching the brunette off guard, and began to strike her repeatedly wherever she could reach. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you! You stupid, disloyal –" each word was punctuated with a smack, "bitch! It should have been you! I wish you were dead!"

"Well I'm not!" shot Andromeda. She seemed to get over her initial shock at being attacked, and threw herself back at Narcissa, maneuvering so that she could pin the blonde's arms to her sides. It was a fairly easy fit, as the other woman was very drunk. "I'm still here, and so are you… and so is Bellatrix."

"Leave her out of this, she's not your concern!"

Andromeda gave a mirthless laugh, "She's just as much my concern as she is yours, Narcissa. No, listen-" she urged when Narcissa began to protest, "I _love _her, just as much as I love you, and I _do_-" Narcissa had snorted in disbelief, "and I want her to be happy. But if anyone finds out about her they are going to target her even more than they already are. Apparently there have already been numerous threats against the Golden Quartet, Nymphadora has several Aurors guarding the school entrance just in case-"

"I know that Bella is in danger," scathed Narcissa, "but she doesn't need _your_ help, nor does she need your half-blood daughter's help! I can protect her-"

"The way you protected Draco?"

It's funny how such a simple statement, spoken as softly as it was, could have the power to reduce the Malfoy matriarch to tears. Narcissa stopped fighting immediately, the anger vanishing and leaving an unbearable chill in it's place. Her eyes, filled with shock and hurt gazed almost pleadingly up at her sister as the tears coursed down the sides of her face.

Andromeda slowly released her, and Narcissa moved away to the other side of the sofa. Wrapping her arms around herself, she murmured, "I _lied _to the Dark Lord to save Harry Potter so that Draco could be spared."

"I know," Andromeda whispered, "I'm not saying that you don't love your son. I know you, Cissy-"

Narcissa cut her off with a harsh, "You don't!"

"I did," Andromeda pointed out, "there was a time when I knew you better than myself." She let out a sigh, "Maybe I should have written first. I just thought- _Merlin_, I guess I thought that if I came here things could be like they were. I really missed you."

Narcissa was making a great effort not to break out into sobs in front of her sister. "I don't generally make a habit of being cordial to people who have ignored me for decades."

"It wasn't my decision. "

"It was." Narcissa's voice was raw from pain she hadn't acknowledged since her school days, "I expected you to contact me, to keep in touch. Bella was certain you would. 'We're sisters,' she said, 'and Andie would **never **turn her back on her sisters.' Well, Bella was wrong. We didn't know about your wedding until after your child was born." She wiped at her eye with her sleeve.

Andromeda's voice was quiet, "Would you have come to the wedding?"

There was another mirthless laugh, "Of course we would have. I would have, at least. I might've used a glamour charm, but I would have made sure to be there. We still thought of you as our sister, even if you-" she took a deep, shuddering breath. When she spoke again, all emotion was gone from her voice. "Thank you for warning me about this new group. You must have a lot on your mind at the moment, perhaps it would be best if we kept our visit short."

It was not a suggestion, and Andromeda got to her feet.

"I really would like to be close with you again," Andromeda said, "I've missed you so much."

Narcissa said nothing, but held her breath until Andromeda left. It was only when she was sure that the other woman was gone that she collapsed, sobbing, onto the sofa cushions.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry that it's taken so long to update, I'm still trying to adjust to life after University, and it's been a rough ride. This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer, but it's been so long since I've posted that I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer. I hope you liked the new POV, I'm not planning on including Narcissa's POV too much, but this scene was stuck in my head, and I really liked writing her. (Who knows, maybe she'll be featured in a different story of mine someday? Anything can happen!)

Please forgive all of my spelling mistakes. My beta has been really busy.

Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming, they've really helped fuel my inner muse.

mineralwasserflasche: Thanks for pointing out the continuity error concerning Bellatrix's "parentage", The Snape/Bellatrix idea came to me between "A Good Elf" and "Pendulum" and it made more sense to me. I'll make sure to fix the epilogue when I get a chance.

Justine: It's as if you're reading my mind =) I'll have to tell Thimble to put better security charms over my chapter notes. Any particularly strong emotions can spur Bella's accidental magic, but most of them are mild enough that no one notices (Hermione might start making the connection in future chapters though) it's mainly anger, frustration, and self-loathing, that cause the fires though.

Dragonling743: Your review made me tear up a little bit. Thank you.

Thanks to mineralwasserflasche, lynettecullen, Justine, alex1966, Yamino Endo, Dragonling743, BexCatchingFire, Wrispen, Rannon Silverthorne, jennybenny2845, juliles, CountingNumbers, devildoc35, and several guest for reviewing. You guys made me feel a lot better.


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